The Final Countdown
by ZeDancingHobbit
Summary: Well, let's see. Shawn's been kidnapped (and shot twice, let's not forget) and is being used as a tool against Juliet by said kidnapper. Time is ticking away to achieve what he wants...and Shawn's life is the timer. Shules. Shawn!Whump and some Juliet!Whump Minor swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! **

**This is my first foray into Psych fandom. I hope I have gotten everyone true to life, but if you see any OOC-ness, discrepancies with the show, etc, please tell me. I'm not sure how long the chapters will end up being (probably not long :P) nor how often I will update. Hopefully it will be every couple of days, but, knowing me…CX I hope you enjoy! **

**Oh, dear. When this is taking place? I don't know. Sometime after they get together. **

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned Psych, James Roday would live at my house. And we would drink pineapple smoothies together. Sadly, as he does not, and I have no smoothies, I sense that I don't own the show. And those vibrations, unfortunately, are true. **

Juliet was a big fan of getting a good night's sleep.

Sure, over the course of her career as a detective, there had been a few nights (okay, more than a few) where she had been up for the better part of 48 hours. And she was fine with that. Sure, she wasn't that fond of them, but when they came around she accepted them and moved on. It was all part of the job.

Still, needless to day, when she was woken up at three in the morning by her phone ringing on its highest volume, she was not happy. And when, after rolling over and peering at the bright screen with bleary eyes, she saw the caller was Shawn Spencer, psychic detective and her slightly immature boyfriend, she was closer to 'pissed' than not.

"Shawn?" she questioned, pushing back a yawn as her unused voice cracked.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment, and she began to wonder if he had perhaps butt-dialed her. She was about to try again once before hanging up when she heard a cough and Shawn say,

"Jules?"

"Shawn, what's going on? It's…three in the morning."

"Jules, I, uh…I need a fav…" Shawn's voice trailed off. A feeling of foreboding rose in the pit of her stomach at the tension in his voice.

"Shawn, are you-"

"Screw it," she was interrupted, Shawn's voice steadily growing more serious and…dare she say it…terrified? "Jules, get out of here, you need to leave the city now, don't worry about me, just leave, now-" He was interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle, and there was a 'thunk' as, presumably, his phone hit the floor, accompanied by shouts.

"What's going on?" Juliet exclaimed into her phone, just as a click sounded, then the report of a gun. A scream of pain echoed across the phone line, and Juliet's heart stopped within her chest. "Shawn?" she whispered. The only answer she received was a pained groaning and shifting noise as the phone was picked up.

"Detective O'Hara," a deep, unfamiliar voice spoke into the iPhone. "I expect you know exactly what just took place. Come to the warehouse by the piers, just off 5th street. The big white one with the grey metal door. If you notify the police or anyone else that you're coming or that Shawny and I are here, little boyfriend's gonna go bye bye. Am I clear?"

"What do you want?" Juliet snarled, a cold, icy fear gripping her chest and impeding her breath.

"All in due time. Get here within the next half hour, or…I'm sure you don't want to know what'll happen then."

Juliet swung her legs out from underneath her blanket and scrambled to her dresser, stripping off her pajamas and hopping into more suitable clothes. "Don't hurt him," she ordered, trapping the phone between her chin and shoulder. "I'm on my way, just please don't-"

"Nononono," she heard Shawn's strained voice, "don't come, please don't come, Jules, please-" A loud smacking sound accompanied by a grunt reached Juliet's ears, making her gut swirl around very unpleasantly. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"So help me, whoever you are, if you hurt him any further I will shoot you repeatedly in the balls, then rip them off and stuff them down your throat, do you understand?!" she barked into the phone, snatching up her keys, holstering her pistol, and running to her car outside.

A wheezing laugh carried over the airwaves, and Shawn spoke. "Dang, man, you might want to leave now, I wouldn't want to mess with my girlfriend when she's-shutting up."

Even his joking couldn't bring a smile to her face, nor lift the fog that inhabited her brain. Putting her foot down, sending her speed gauge up to velocities she didn't even want to think about, she told Shawn the only thing she could at the moment. "Hold on, Shawn," she called into the phone. "You'll be okay. …Just hold on."

She only prayed that she was right.

oOoOo

Shawn tilted his head back, resting it against the wall as he exhaled heavily. His hands, now covered in deep red liquid, clutched a burning bullet wound on his left thigh, now pulsing blood and not feeling great. At all. He exhaled heavily through his teeth, trying to quell the pain and the apprehension growing in his gut.

His kidnapper sat across the room from him, on some old wooden chair that Shawn wasn't sure was even capable of holding the massive Hulk of a man. Good grief, what did the man _eat_?! He was tall, muscled, possessed a head of remarkable hair in a buzz cut, wore a scowl of epic proportions, and was currently training a gun at his head.

"Look, man," Shawn attempted to get some conversation going, "I, uh…I don't suppose you have anything to eat around here, do you?"

No reply but that hard, unblinking stare.

"Yeah, that's fine, that's…fine. Not that hungry, really. I mean, I kind of have this bad habit of eating to pass the time. Well, usually I'm about as hungry as a starving wildebeest, but it's kind of hard to be hungry right now. I mean-" he glanced down at his leg, now saturated in a thick crust of blood "-it's kind of hard to want Doritos when you've been shot." He paused for a moment. "I got shot before. My shoulder. Then I had to run away from some guy and jump onto a car-but you probably don't want to hear about that. You know…I'm sure you've got some stories of your own, huh?"

Nothing.

"Huh. Maybe not. What, do you work at a plant nursery? Attack of the Rabid Roses! Or maybe…maybe an amusement park. Selling those really great slushee things. They taste pretty freaking awesome." Shawn sighed. "I could go for one of those. 'Cept that then I'd have to pee. And, well." He gestured to his thigh. "Don't think that's gonna happen."

God, what was with these man's eyes? It's like they were forged of the icecaps in Antarctica!

Shawn's mind trailed off into space as he thought about Juliet. Geez, he should never have called her…what was he thinking? Consequences be damned, she should never have been brought into this. Regardless of what 'this' was… This was clearly a bad man, and bad men with guns do not make for a simple equation. Well. Perhaps, with a bit of his psychic magic, he would work some miracles.

"Yo, Biggey," he tried once more, "you know who I am, right?"

"Shawn Spencer," the Incredible Hulk replied in his robot voice. "Son of former cop Henry Spencer. Self proclaimed 'psychic detective'. Boyfriend of Detective Juliet O'Hara."

Shawn raised his eyebrows. "Okay, then. Well. Someone's done their homework. Listen, since you obviously so astutely know that I am a psychic, what say we play a game? You win, I'll stay here. I win, and I get out home free, with Juliet. What say ye?"

"I don't believe in psychics," Hulk-man answered in his level voice. "I never have, and I never will. Anything can be found out with the right skills. So, no. I do not agree to your game. You will keep your mouth shut until the detective come, you will keep your hands where I can see them at all times, and you will not cause any other disturbances, or your bullet wound will have a twin. Do you understand me?"

Shawn opened, his mouth slightly, but no words would come, so he shut it obligingly and swallowed. Nodding, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. The most he could do was wait.

He only hoped Juliet was safe, and going in the opposite direction of the warehouse.

Knowing Juliet, she probably wasn't.

**Welp, that's the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it. Please drop a review, if you would be so kind(: **


	2. Chapter 2

**Helloooo, everyone! Wow, 9 reviews for my first chapter?! Thank you so much! Ya'll are great. :D I'll try and update at least once a week, now. Hopefully…maybe… O.O Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy!**

It was quiet. Very, very quiet. Not something that Shawn felt very comfortable with. Unfortunately, Ole' Ironsides over there, with his freakishly hard stare and bulging muscles was making very sure that Shawn's mouth was kept firmly closed and no distractions made. Damn the man, it was making Shawn jumpy. His leg was on fire, he couldn't talk, and Jules wasn't there to make it better. Not that he wanted her there. Well, he did, but he didn't. He didn't want her anywhere near this crazed, calm, cold-blooded killer. (The alliteration made a slightly loopy smile appear on his face) Oh, dear. The blood loss was getting slightly to his head.

The silence was broken abruptly by Shawn's ringtone blasting, the volume apparently turned up on high. Shawn sang along the words, "Check yes, Juliet!" in a slightly high-pitched voice, prompting an eyebrow raise from his captor. The man picked up the phone and slid his finger to answer the call. "Miss O'Hara," he greeted her curtly.

"Where is Shawn?" The man in question heard his girlfriend snap.

"He is-"

"I want to talk to him." Her tone was sharp, brisk. Take-no-prisoners.

"I don't know if I can allow that."

"You better fu-"

"Now, now, detective. There's no call for that kind of language." The Hulk's tone was even, calculated.

"Put him on the line."

"Why would I do that?"

"I need to know that he's still fine."

"Well-" the man half-chuckled "-I wouldn't say that he's fine. He is still alive and breathing. And talking, if that says anything."

"I. Don't. Care," Juliet growled. "Put him on the line. I am nearing the warehouse. I will not enter that building until I can talk to Shawn."

The man gave a sidelong glance at the iPhone, as if he thought his disapproving stare would enter the glass and broadcast through the airwaves to meet Juliet's. Shawn had no doubt who would have won that contest. Still, it seemed the man had a trace of goodwill in his cavernous heart, for he reached forward and handed the phone to Shawn. His hands slowly peeled themselves away from the slightly congealed blood, one not being able to move without the other. He winced as they tugged at the bullet hole, but he succeeded in snatching at the phone and bringing it to his ear. "Jules?"

"Oh, my god, Shawn, are you all right? What happened?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Listen, I think I can get out of this, no reason to come, okay?" he added in a hushed tone, both trying to convince himself and Juliet at the same time of his capabilities while not alerting his captor. "Just leave right now, and I'll be out so-"

"Shawn." Her voice was so gentle, yet reprimanded him so well at the same time. How did she do that? "Are you hurt? I heard a gunshot go off. Did it hit you?" Before he could come up with some lame "Oh, yeah, I deflected it with my metal-bending skills and sent it into the doorway. No biggie", she ordered, "Don't lie to me."

Shawn swallowed and bit his tongue slightly, not wanting to worry her, but knowing that if he told her the truth she would come into the warehouse and they couldn't have that happening. "Well, I…"

"Shawn…"

"My leg. Just my leg, nothing too serious, doesn't even hurt all that-"

"Where." It wasn't even a question.

"…Upper thigh."

"Dammit, Shawn," Juliet groaned, an exasperated tone entering her voice. "Why did you have to antagonize-" Her voice stopped, and Shawn was surprised to find how disappointed he was not to hear it any longer. "I'll be up in a few minutes."

"No, no, don't-"

"It's okay," Juliet interrupted him. "It'll all be fine, okay? Now…hand me to whoever is holding you."

"No-one's holding me," Shawn answered, "I'm sitting on the floor."

He could imagine her expression. "Shawn."

"Okay, okay." Before he handed the phone to the Hulk, he murmured a hasty, "I love you" into the phone.

"Love you too," he heard before it was taken away. Hulk held it up to his ear for a few seconds. "Yes. Come inside. Wait by the main door. I will meet you there. Be warned, I will search you for weapons." He nodded and hung up the phone. Before he exited the room, however, he pointed his gun at Shawn. "If you move or try to escape, there will be unpleasant consequences."

"Really? I thought you were going to give me a cookie," Shawn quipped.

The man simply raised his eyes slightly and left. Shawn wasted no time in twisting his wrists to almost unnatural angles, gasping slightly as the duct tape burned his skin. It was almost off when he heard a heavy step upon the stairs, and was thereby stopped from continuing his efforts. The door was opened, and Juliet was ushered into the room, hands held in the air as the man pointed two guns at her. She held a clear plastic box in one hand. "Face the wall," he ordered, "and plant your hands on it. Do not bring them anywhere near your person."

"You just searched me," Juliet pointed out. "And took my gun."

"And I will search you again," the man answered briskly. Juliet simply huffed and did as she was ordered, allowing the man to pat his hands over her body.

"Hey, buddy, no-one gets to touch my girlfriend like that except for me," Shawn stated light-heartedly.

"Shawn!" Juliet exclaimed, a light blush painting her cheeks.

Shawn simply winked at her cheekily before settling back and gnawing his cheek, watching the man complete the search. He allowed Juliet to stand and face him, but made her stay there. "What is in the box?" he questioned.

"It's a first-aid kit. I always keep one in my car, and figured Shawn might be in need of it." She glared at the man. "Can I please go see him?"

"Yes." As she made to go to him, the man stopped her. "Give me the kit."

Juliet's brow furrowed. "But I need it."

"I realize that. But our business will be conducted in a much quicker manner if he does not receive medical attention." Shawn's stomach twisted slightly, the hope of even a bandage to stop the blood flow quickly ripped away from him. Great. Just…peachy.

Juliet's jaw dropped slightly. "B-but-"

"The kit please." His hand reached out for it expectantly, and Juliet's mouth worked slightly. She hesitated a moment, but the need to see Shawn was too great, and she dropped it in his hand. "Thank you." He waved the gun in Shawn's direction. "You may see him. But our business will need to be done soon. And remember…" he shook the gun slightly. "If you try anything, I will not hesitate to use this."

Juliet didn't need to be told twice, and rushed over to Shawn. She fell to her knees beside him, cupping his cheek in her hand, Shawn allowed himself to melt into her cool touch for a few ecstatic seconds. "Jules," he gasped out, relishing her gentle hands for a few moments before shaking his head and pushing her away. "No," he ordered, "you need to go, Jules."

"I don't think so," she whispered, turning his face towards hers once more.

"We don't know who this guy is, what he wants, what he is willing to do-"

"Shawn," she interrupted him gently. "It's gonna be okay, all right?" She smiled encouragingly and kissed his forehead. "We'll get out of this just fine." In response to his grimace, she questioned, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I-"

"Then relax."

"I don't trust _him_." Shawn jerked his head in the direction of his kidnapper, who stood with hands behind his back and legs planted apart expectantly.

Juliet let out a nervous chuckle and squeezed his hand. "Just hang on. Try and stop the bleeding. It'll be over soon."

In one way or another, he guessed.

With that, she stood up, squared her shoulders, and turned to face the man. "Now, then. Care to tell me why you've kidnapped and shot my boyfriend?"

**Please make my heart happy and revieeeeeeeew!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I apologize from the bottom of my heart for the wait. I ran into some writer's block during this, but I think I got it sorted out. I hope some whump will make it up to you(;**

**Okay, guys. watched X-men for the forst time this weekend. Holy crap. Wolverine is so attractive. i can't even Ugh. He is amazing. And he's older than my parents but I still want to marry him. Ugh. SO amazing. I spent my entire weekend watching all the movies and staring at him the entire time. Can't even. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

The man chuckled softly and gestured for Juliet to go sit in a small, dusty chair. "Please, detective. Have a seat."

Juliet carefully stepped away from Shawn, giving Shawn's hand one last final squeeze, the only indication that she felt any insecurity about the events about to unfold, before letting it fall away. Shawn grasped for it vainly, before sighing and settling back to watch. Juliet, staring at the man carefully, set herself down in the rickety chair and folded her hands in her lap. Her back was ramrod straight, her foot lightly tapping the floor.

"Now," the man started, "yesterday, you went to a crime scene." He paused, as if to wait for an affirmative.

"Yes," Juliet answered after a moment's pause, " I did. I went to four."

"Please recount them to me."

"I'm afraid I probably shouldn't do that."

The man gave a slight, irritated sigh before cocking his gun and pointing it at Shawn's head. "Need I try again?"

Juliet stiffened and obliged the man. "Ah, there was a petty theft, another petty theft, a vandalism, and a suicide."

The man smiled and inclined his head slightly. "Please, describe the suicide."

Juliet gave a small grimace before continuing. "It was a man, who was found in an alleyway. He had shot himself, through the mouth, with a gun that was found in his hand. There were not other fingerprints on the gun, the bullet came from the same gun, and there was no foul play involved, so it was classified as a suicide and the case was closed."

"What did the man look like?"

"About 6 foot, dark hair, brown eyes. A scar on his left cheek about an inch long. Light skin."

The man scooted closer, a sudden intense light coming into his eyes. "The code. Tell me the code."

Juliet raised an eyebrow and carefully leaned away from the man. "Code?"

"The man had a code. Give me the code."

"There wasn't a code, he was a dead man. Why would he have a code?"

El Kidnepper (said with a Spanish accent in Shawn's mind) scowled and pointed the gun at Juliet this time, taking his focus away from Shawn for a few moments. "Miss o'Hara, please. I know you have it, and it is imperative that I obtain that code. Now please. Let's be reasonable, and not act like children."

Shawn took the free minute to allow himself to examine the room. It was a small room, with old, dingy white-wash covering the walls. Shawn sat on the longer side of the room, on the same side as the door, while being about 10 feet away from it. Juliet sat about three feet to his left on the aforementioned dusty chair, and the mysterious man sat opposite her on another chair. There was a pile of about ten boxes containing who-knew-what on the far side of the room. Altogether, it was a dusty jail cell that Shawn didn't know if he would get out of. He felt like Wesley from the Princess Bridge, only his Buttercup was in the room, and so was that gol-durned Prince Humperdinck. He thought (with a slight gulp) that Wesley hadn't gotten out of the room until after he had died.

"I, I'm sorry, there was no code," Juliet stammered, as Shawn refocused on the conversation.

Humperdinck growled and struck his fist against the wall angrily. "There was nothing on the body? No hidden paper? No tattoo? No number on his clothes?"

Juliet shook her head. "I'm sorry, there wasn't any, I-"

The man shut her up with an abrupt gesture of his hand and rubbed his temples, a pained grimace on his face. He stayed in that position for a few tense seconds, before sighing and returning to his previous calm. He sat up, ramrod straight and collected once more, and tried again. "Detective," he stated, "you received a few phone calls yesterday, did you not?"

Juliet licked her lips nervously before answering. "Yes, I did. But none of them were of any importance."

"Please tell me about them."

Juliet glanced at Shawn, as if to ask for support. Shawn gave her a tiny, reassuring smile, though his stomach felt like it had that one time when he was 10, and he had eaten 2 funnel cakes before going on the Tilt-a-Whirl (the results had been nothing short of disastrous).

"Uh, I…the first one was Carlton. He got a break in the case we'd been working on, and he took care of it. Then there was a telemarketer, and then my mother called to ask if I wanted to go over to her house for lunch on Saturday."

"I'm coming!" Shawn interjected excitedly.

Juliet let loose a breathy chuckle before continuing. "Then there was another telemarketer, then a wrong number, then two more telemarketers. And the next one was Shawn this morning."

Shawn tensed his jaw as he studied the man, an idea sparking in his brain. Ity bad idea, probably one of the worst ones he'd had in a very long time, but if there was any chance they were going to get out of this alive, well, this was it. He began to flesh it out at least a tad before putting it into action. His fingers, however, began to tap on the floor for a few seconds, in a disarming way.

The Hulk glared at him. "Do you mind?" he snapped. "I'm trying to get some very valuable information, information that could save your life."

"Yeah, sorry, sorry," Shawn answered hastily, "it's just the ADD acting up, and, well, you know, one Madonna song, a Justin Bieber, and an "IIIIIII WILL ALWays LooooOOOvve YOoooooOOO" later, my fingers can't help but beat out a samba. And it kind of helps the fiery burning in my leg. Do you mind if I…" Shawn trailed off, an eyebrow raised in request to continue his shenanigans.

The man sighed in irritation, but waved his hand in acquiescence. Shawn licked his lower lip, then tapped and scratched aimlessly for a few more moments. Then, he paused for a couple seconds. He chanced a quick glance at Juliet, then began to tap out in morse code "Are you hearing this?"

Juliet's eyes gave a barely widening before going back to normal. Before she could answer, he messaged, "Do something random we don't want him to discover this aiijsgfklbugfijse." He finished up his statement with more random scratchings.

Juliet did as he said, patting her pant leg with her index finger barely noticeably. She sent him gibberish, then answered, "whats wrong".

"Ajkhel I've got an ideasfgir"

"Kilerf it better not be anything stupid what is it"

"hf Ummm"

"Lfdit Shawn jylu"

"Skyr Trust me grhs"

Juliet raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond, prompting Shawn to elaborate.

"Wryeh when you get the signal grab his gun or smash him on the head or something djfle"

"shaelr what signal asgib"

"a asd"

"Wait" she sent to him, but not before he had snatched off his shoe, a fiery pain traveling up his leg, then launched it at his captor's head. It smacked him in the face, catching him off-guard. Juliet's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the odd distraction, but she got over her split second hesitation and dove for his gun, which clattered to the floor as his fingers slackened their grip. The man gathered his wits just in time to glimpse her grabbing his gun, and he slammed his foot down on her outstretched arm. She cried out, and Shawn yelled "No!" as she dropped the gun, bolts of fire shooting up and down her arm. Shawn's stomach dropped in disappointment that their slightly shoddy plan had failed. The man used his foot to scooch the gun away, then grabbed Juliet's wrist and used it to pull her up. His huge fist squeezed tightly, and Juliet whimpered as faint cracks could be heard coming from the bone. Tiny tear drops emerged from her eyes as the man pulled her close to his face, a sneer on his lips, and Shawn shouted a panicked, "Stop it! Let her go!"

The Hulk turned his gaze towards him and shoved Juliet back into the seat, bending down to pick up the gun. Juliet gasped in pain and cradled her wrist to her chest.

Their captor cocked the gun, looked at Juliet with a hard glint in his eyes, and stated, "That, detective, was a very big mistake." And with that, he leveled the gun at Shawn and pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed around the room as Juliet screamed, "No!" Shawn's head smacked back against walls with a sickening 'crack' from the whiplash, and his hands flew shakily to his torso. Juliet stared in shock, tears sparking in her eyes, as he peeled them away to reveal a hole just below the right side of his ribs. It let loose a stream of blood to match the one on his thigh, a disgusting red-purple. His breath came out in shaky gasps as his gaze traveled up to meet hers. His eyes were wide, shocked and pained. However, he gave a strained, "I-I'm ok-k-kay."

"Shawn," she breathed, her uninjured hand covering her mouth. She shut her eyes, unable to bear the sight any longer.

"Now," the kidnapper said, pointing the gun at Juliet's forehead. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her with a cold, steely glare. "Are you going to cause any more trouble?"

She shook her head, biting her lip and aching for Shawn, as he answered, "Good. Now," he sighed, "let's talk about those callers."

**Please review for me! I have been getting such lovely reviews from all of you, and it would be a shame to stop the awesomeness now(;**


	4. Chapter 4

How do you apologize adequately for the ungodly length of time between updates? If I knew how, I would. So please accept this humble apology, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Oh! Has anyone seen Man of Steel yet? OMG OMG OMG is was amazing Henry Cavill is amazing he has the body of a god just woooh. Someone get me a fan.

DISCLAIMER: Me no own, you no sue. Capice? Capice.

oOoOo

"Your first call?" The kidnapper prodded, once again sitting in ramrod straight position.

Juliet glanced at Shawn, bright tears glistening in her eyes, blurring her vision, before turning back to their captor. "It was a telemarketer," she ground out between gritted teeth, "like I told you earlier."

"What was he, or she, advertising?"

"I don't remem-"

"Then remember!" the man roared, startling the couple. Juliet jumped and squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers gripping the chair so hard her knuckles turned a pale white. She reminded herself that she was in this for Shawn's life, and she couldn't afford not to give the man what he wanted.

Shawn, on the other hand, had no such caution. "Don't talk to her like that," he snapped, glaring daggers. His hand still clutched his side, where blood slowly oozed between the cracks in his already maroon colored fingers. He tensed as the gun was shifted to pointing at his hand, but his stare was no less angry.

"I got this, Shawn," Juliet told him, praying that nothing would set the man off. "But thank you, hon."

Shawn grumbled and gnawed the inside of his cheek, but otherwise backed down for the moment. The detective breathed in deeply and concentrated, massaging her temples slowly. "Um, it was…it was an advertisement for…insurance, I think. Yeah, definitely insurance."

"What was the company?"

"Uh…Someone and Co., Fillstein, I think?"

The man frowned and shoved his laptop towards her. "Type it in."

"What?"

"Search for it." With a gun pointed at her temple, she didn't really have a choice, so she clicked on the Google search bar and typed it in. Sure enough, the first result displayed "Fillstein and Co. 'Don't be nervous. Use our service!'" She read it aloud and showed it to the man, who growled under his breath and retrieved the laptop from her.

"Eesh," Shawn observed, "I don't blame you for hanging up on them. That is, assuming you did hang up on them. But if you did I wouldn't blame you."

The man rolled his eyes and paid no heed to the rambling psychic. "What kind of voice did this man have?" he questioned.

"Uh, it was kind of squeaky. And irritating. And he had a bit of a lisp. Like, it wasn't really prominent, but it was definitely there."

"What did he say?"

He asked if I needed insurance, was I happy with my present company, yadda yadda yadda. The usual."

"And you didn't hang up?" Shawn cried in disbelief.

"I did when he started hitting on me."

"That little punk better have a good insurance himself," Shawn muttered darkly.

Juliet somehow smiled around the knot in her stomach as the man continued to question her. And she wondered if they would ever get out of this.

oOoOo

Carlton Lassiter, head detective of the police department, partner of Juliet O'Hara, and self-proclaimed hater of all things psychic, rubbed his face and yawned deeply. He had been up all night attempting to get a break in this case, poring over countless documents and photos, and after hours of painstaking research he had finally found the missing piece. He whipped his phone out from his pocket and dialed Juliet's number. He sat expectantly, tapping his finger against his chair's arm rest impatiently as it rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. After the fifth, Juliet's perky voice could be heard saying, "This is Juliet O'Hara's phone. Unfortunately, I am not able to come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. And Shawn, if you're asking me to bring you a smoothie…we talked about this." He growled as a 'beep' was heard and barked into his phone, "O'Hara! I found a break in the case. Pick up your phone." He pressed 'end' and slammed his phone on his desk.

With nothing in his hands, he drummed his empty fingers on the wood…then picked up the phone and dialed again.

oOoOo

The questioning was brought to a halt by the sound of Juliet's phone ringing loudly, surprising all of them. The kidnapper maneuvered his hand to his pocket and pulled out the ringing phone, where it had been put after he had searched her and confiscated it. It displayed a picture of a somber looking man, who glared at the camera with a steely eye. Under it, the label read "Carlton".

"Detective, receiving late callsfrom a lover, are we?" the man chuckled. Juliet's face paled as Shawn's jaw dropped.

"Jules?" he asked, tone incredulous, and Juliet peered at the screen in confusion. Her eyebrows dropped, deadpanning, as she caught sight of the caller. "That's my partner Carlton Lassiter," she snapped.

The man chuckled and pressed 'ignore' on the screen. "I know."

Shawn rolled his eyes.

A few seconds later, the phone rang again, and again their captor pressed 'ignore'. Again, it rang, and the man growled frustratedly. "Does he never give up?"

"He's Carlton, and he's been working on a case," Juliet sighed. "He'll be furious that I'm not picking up."

The man stared at the phone. "Would you normally have picked it up by now?"

"Yes. I always pick it up with him. I get flak if I don't."

The man grunted under his breath. "Well, nothing must be out of the ordinary. Answer it, but know that if you disclose anything about what has happened, I will shoot you and him and be gone before the police can get anywhere near here."

"Ooh, ooh! Let me!" Shawn piped up. "I'll say we were in the throes of wild love-making!"

"Absolutely not." And with that, Juliet picked up the phone and swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"O'Hara!" a loud voice blasted into her ear, and she grimaced at the piercing volume. "Why didn't you pick up your phone?"

"I…I…" She was saved from having to answer by Shawn putting his two cents in. "Oh, Jules! Oh! You're torturing me!" he moaned out, loud enough for Lassie to hear.

"Shawn!" she hissed, covering the microphone-d end of the phone as she heard Carlton pause.

"O'Hara."

She sighed. "Yes, Carlton?"

"Are you with-"

"Oh, Jules, yes! That's it! Mmm!"

"Shawn!"

"Are you with Spencer?"

"_Jules_!"

"Shawn, stop it! Yes, Carlton, I am with Shawn at the moment. Did you need something?"

Lassiter groaned. "I did not need to know that. Anyway, I found a break in the case. You need to get to the station pronto."

Juliet froze. "Uh, I can't."

"Listen, you tell Spencer-"

"No, I'm, uh, I'm sick."

"Sick," Lassie repeated dubiously.

"Yes, I'm really sick. Actually, I'm not even home. I'm at the hospital."

"The hospital?!"

"Yeah, I'm…" Juliet's heart began to race. She was taking a hug risk. A monumental risk. One that could result in both her and Shawn's death. But if Lassiter could get just a hint that something was wrong…they had a spark, a glimmer, of hope. "It's really bad. I even had to get a _shot_." She placed just the barest emphasis on 'shot'. Barely there. "But Carlton, if you could do me a favor, work on that case, and get back to me soon. Then I'll probably know if anything's _out of the ordinary_." Again, just the barest accent. "Okay?"

A beat passed as Carlton digested this information. "O'Hara, are you sure you're fine, and…are you having sex in a hosp-"

"I'm fine," she interrupted him quickly, not wanting the gamble to last much longer. "Goodbye, Carlton. The doctor is here." She pressed the end call button and exhaled deeply, then handed the phone back to her captor and looked him in the eye. "Was that good enough?" she asked curtly.

His eyes were narrowed, but he nodded and retrieved the phone. "Why did you not tell him you were at home?"

"Because he would have come to drag me out of the house and found me not there. I don't think you would have wanted that, would you?"

There a tense moment as the man studied Juliet, her even gaze meeting his own calculating one. Shawn watched nervously from his spot on the floor, powerless to do anything but hope. The seconds played out, apprehension mounting…until the man gave a soft chuckle. "You are a smart little minx, detective. I respect that."

Juliet exhaled again, able to breath once more. She looked at Shawn, ready to give him a relieved look, but her stomach dropped as she saw his head start to droop and his eyelids flutter closed. "Shawn? Shawn, honey, wake up."

Shawn jerked awake. "I'm fine, f…I'm fine." He cleared his throat and wiggled his head, wincing as it jarred his torso. He managed to muster a half-smile for Juliet, who, due to the worry in her stomach, was unable to do the same. She realized, not for the first time, or the last, just the amount of danger they were in.

oOoOo

In case you wonder, she didn't tell Carlton she was at her house because he would have seen them (obviously) not there, and gotten suspicious and would have called back and there would have been a big mess. Oysh.

Please review for me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, everyone. I apologize for the delay. There should only be a few more chapters after this, so, you won't have to keep waiting haha. I shall try my hardest to get these next chapters out as soon as possible. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Psych. Sadly. **

Juliet rubbed her temples tiredly and exhaled, frustration bubbling in her gut. Half an hour later, they'd pored over the next two telemarketers, the wrong number, and the next telemarketer, going over every single second of the calls, recalling every last detail and researching all aspects. It was the same outcome as before.

No progress at all.

They were interrupted by Shawn suddenly began coughing. The man shot an irritated glance in his direction, but continued grilling Juliet about her phone calls. Juliet watched him concernedly, but kept quiet, knowing that if she said anything it would only make things worse for them. She exhaled heavily just as Shawn raised his voice.

"Got a b-?" but his sentence was cut off as he heaved, opening his mouth and vomiting onto the floor. He half-doubled over, the pain in his abdomen preventing him from leaning over any further, and let the vile liquid spew with a pained grimace on his face.

If there was anything Shawn hated more than rotten pineapple and interrupted make-out sessions, it was puking.

The fact that Shawn was puking didn't make Juliet nervous. The fact that she wasn't supposed to move or she'd get shot didn't presently make her very nervous. It was what Shawn expelled from his stomach that made her own flip-flop.

It was blood.

Shawn coughed and spit, making a disgusted sound before staring in shock at the puddle he'd made on the concrete. His face paled at the grisly sight, and he met Juliet's eyes, his breath starting to quicken. "J-Jules?" he stammered, his teeth stained a foreboding red as his words slurred. "Sh-should tha' be…"

She couldn't respond for a few seconds, mesmerized by the maroon, sticky puddle slowly seeping its way along the concrete. She couldn't take her eyes off it, a physical reminder of just how much danger Shawn was in. After several tense moments, she managed to tear herself away and choke out, "I-I don't know, baby." She bit her lip and ducked her head as tears made their way into her eyes, before repeating in a heartbroken whisper, "I don't know." They both knew she was lying. She knew very well that it was a very, very bad thing.

Their kidnapper smirked behind Juliet and offered his (highly unwanted) two-cents. "He's internally hemorrhaging. Bleeding, on the inside. He won't last long now. I suggest you tell me all you know."

Juliet rounded on him with a fury, eyes blazing. "Well maybe you could help him, instead of sitting there and watching him-" She cut herself off before she could speak the terrible words aloud.

"You know I can't do that, Detective," he answered seriously. "I understand that you're under considerable pressure right now, but you must understand I am under more, and your suffering for the moment is for the good of the country." He shifted closer to Juliet, eyes gleaming as his hands flexed in enthusiasm. "The government is corrupt, Detective, and it is time for a change. A great change. An enormous change. One that will bring about the dawn of a new country, a glorious age where there will be equality and riches for all. And all I need to help make that happen is this little code. Do you understand, Detective? Then you can help your boyfriend, go home, and forget all this ever happened."

"Don't lie to me," Juliet snapped. "We both know that's not going to happen. Don't…_patronize_ me."

The man peered at her intensely for a few moments, appraising her, before giving a respectful nod. "Very well then, Detective." He gestured with his head towards the struggling Shawn. "Don't make him suffer, Detective. End it, and let's be done with this."

"Jules? Wha…wha's going on?" Shawn slurred, hand clutching his side. A trickle of blood made its way down the side of his chin from his mouth, and he took in shallow, uneven breaths.

"Just…" She inhaled shakily, blinking away the tears that pinpricked. "Just trying to get this done faster. Okay?" Her chin trembled as she gave him the biggest smile she could muster, which, admittedly, was not much more than her two lips pressed together with a the corners upturned. "Breathe. Nice, steady breaths."

"Shall we continue?" the man interrupted, not apparently caring to listen any longer to Shawn's struggles. Without waiting for an affirmative, he plunged right in. "So. Our last call. Detective, I will not hesitate to tell you the importance of this. If this call does not contain the code…" He shrugged and lazily gestured towards Shawn, using his head. "I fear for Mr. Spencer."

With a frustrated sigh, Juliet leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees, digging the palms of her hands into her eyes. Fatigue was readily setting in, blowing a fog from the back of her brain towards the front and hindering her mental processing. "Okay, uh, it was…it was a guy. He…he was from a share-broking agency. His name was Andrew Jent, I think."

Their kidnapper lifted a finger, brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Andrew Jent?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting." He pursed his lips, lacing his fingertips together in an attitude of pondering. "Continue."

"Uh, he, was trying to sell me stocks of guns. I don't know what kind, but it was guns."

"Guns, how interesting.

Have you ever had a call made to you concerning stock before?" he questioned, changing his angle of inquiry.

"No, actually, and I thought it was kind of weird. But it was for guns. And…" Her eyes widened as she remembered the call, her heart rate quickening within her. "He kept…changing the number of stocks I could get, and the money he'd save me…"

The kidnapper leaned forward, his forehead nearly touching Juliet's. Sweat was beaded on his forehead, dripping off his nose. It splashed onto his pant leg on his thigh, leaving a tiny, round wet spot. "How so?"

"One minute he'd say something like, "I can make you 5 million dollars in 3 days,' and then a few seconds later he'd say, "I can make you 6 million dollars in 2 days.' And he'd say stuff like that…all the time." Her eyes widened as a chilling though that this might be the actual call, code, _thing_, that they were looking for. She was putting her country in danger. She was risking everything, all that she'd ever known. She was risking bringing on the apocalypse, all for the thin, thin hope that she might be able to save Shawn. She might go down in history as the cause of the fall of America, who knew how, and all for the minuscule possibility she'd thwart the man and get out of this. And telling him about the call was her best bet.

The man's face slid into a smirk, his hands flexing in enthusiasm. "Everything."

"Huh?"

"I need you to tell me everything he said." A gleam entered his eyes, malicious and calculating. "Everything."

Juliet swallowed. Everything.

Shawn squeezed his eyes shut against the disgusting coppery taste in his mouth. Blood. Oh, god. Blood. He knew this wasn't good. He knew Jules knew it wasn't good. He knew it meant internal bleeding. Hemorrhaging. More than probable death.

He was going to die.

He knew it. His body was going numb (an incredibly weird experience). The pain still burned, but it was a disembodied burn. He felt it, but he didn't feel it.

It scared him.

Shawn was afraid of dying. Who wasn't, right? Come on. It's death. The Great Unknown. The Other Side. Heaven or hell? Was there even a heaven? If there was, he wouldn't be going. Any person with two eyes could see that. He was not exactly the most moral of people, per se. He wasn't especially spiritual. He didn't got to church. He wasn't into the whole "Kumbayaa, Jesus Loves the Little Children" thing…but for a moment, he wished he was. If he was, maybe he wouldn't be so scared.

Well. Even if he died, Juliet wasn't going to. He would make sure of that. No evil man, no kidnapper, no terrorist-killing machine-person (yes, he could hear what they were talking about, much as he let on he couldn't) was going to kill his Juliet.

Even if Shawn had to die in the process.

**Please, do me the extreme honor and review for me. It would make a very crappy day much better. **


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm sorry for the wait. I'm not exactly happy with the chapter, but next chapter will hopefully be good because we have the great showdown. Dunh dunh dunh. So. I'm sorry. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

Juliet swallowed heavily as the man leaned in closer to her, so close she could smell the sweat beaded on his forehead and dripping off his nose. Her hands trembled with nervousness, a physical manifestation of the terror in her heart. She was foolish. Stupid. To risk an entire country for one man (and that man being an immature, goofy, pineapple addicted psychic at that) was the worst thing she could do. And yet, there was no way she couldn't do it. Because Shawn…her lovable, wonderful goober Shawn…was everything to her.

And he was worth it.

"Now, detective, I need you to tell me each of those numbers," the man ordered seriously, his laptop open on the floor.

"That's impossible," she answered, "I can't remember all of those numbers."

The man gave a long-suffering sigh. "Detective, I will not hesitate to inflict further damage on Mr. Spencer if it is necessary. He is beat up enough as it is, don't you think?"

Juliet cast a glance at the struggling psychic. Bloody and quickly fading, he was just barely able to keep his hand sandwiched on the bullet hole in his side. With the duct tape binding his hands together, it was impossible to cover that and the wound in his leg. Still, though one wound was covered to the best of his ability, both of them were emitting a nice sized flow of blood. His head lolled to the side, but he jerked it upwards and cleared his throat to spit off to the side. Blood landed in a small splat. Juliet cringed and turned back to the kidnapper. "All right. I remember, the first thing he said was…um, I believe it was 2, then 6."

"You're sure?" the man questioned, tapping the numbers in on his keyboard.

"No," Juliet scoffed. "I'm not. I told you."

"Hmm…" the man placed his fingertips together and placed them in the shape of a tent under his chin. "Detective, I did forget to tell you one fact. We have exactly three tries to get this right. If those three tries are used up, I will not hesitate to make Mr. Spencer go through a very, very, very painful death. So painful he will scream for so long and so loud his vocal chords will be worn away before I am halfway through." His voice lowered to a viscious, sneering snarl, emanating from his throat as his head moved further forward. Juliet's horrified face inched further backwards, but the man continued moving further forwards until his she could see every single hair above his lips, every pore in his skin, every blemish in his skin. His lips curled with derision as he spat out his threats. "I will skin him alive. I will carve your name into his flesh over and over again. I will tear him apart until all he is a writhing, voiceless mass of muscle and pouring blood. And only after I scream in his ear that it is your, all _your _fault that he has come to this, will I let him die. And after that is done, I will rip out his heart and shove it down your throat. And I shall slit your throat, and the last thing you see will the be unidentifiable mass that used to be your boyfriend," he finished savagely. "That is what will happen if you fail."

Juliet's jaw hung slack, her wide eyes filled with tears of horror as she digested everything he had just told her. "You're a monster," she breathed.

The man scoffed lightly. "Humanity is a monster," he sneered. "I'm just taking full advantage of my nature." His eyes narrowed. "Do you understand?"

Juliet licked her lips and nodded. "I-I understand."

The man leaned back and picked up his laptop once more. "Now. About those numbers. Are you sure?"

"Yes," Juliet whispered. "I-I think so."

"That's what I like to hear." The man nodded approvingly. "And the next ones?"

"I-I don't know-"

"Detective…" he drawled, waving his gun in Shawn's general direction.

"Just let me think!" she ordered, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Uh, he said…he asked if I'd ever bought stock before. And I said no. And he said… 'I can make you…5 million in 4 days, I think. Yeah. 5 in 4."

"Good, good," the man murmured, tapping the numbers into his keyboard. "And the next?"

Before Juliet could continue, Shawn began humming quietly, over in his corner of the room. The man gave an irritable glance at the psychic, but that did nothing to deter the ever-irrepressible Shawn. He continued to provide a distraction for the poor, frazzled Juliet, much as she would've liked him to hush and let her handle things.

Finally, the kidnapper had had enough. "What are you doing?" he snapped, a vein above his head throbbing (if Juliet had tried to kidnap Shawn, her veins would be throbbing as well).

"Hm?" Shawn questioned, pretending that he hadn't known the man had noticed. "Oh, just, uh, just humming."

"Well, if you don't mind-"

"What was that, Shawn?" Juliet interrupted. She knew what tune it was, but her brain was having a hard time remembering. And, of course, at that pressing time and hour, her mind had decided to make it a huge priority to find out just what that song was (she blamed it on sleep deprivation).

"The Final Countdown," Shawn answered breezily. "Figured it was…you know. Kind of appropriate." The man had a bit of a blank look, and Shawn's brow furrowed. "You know…the song. The Final Countdown?"

Nothing.

"You're kidding," Shawn exclaimed in disbelief. "You've never heard- 'It's the fin-al count-down, mah de mah nah, mahdemahnahnah, mah de mah nah…" he trailed off. "Where've you been living, under a-" he broke off as coughs wracked his chest, more blood spilling onto his lips as he hacked and wheezed- "a rock?" He wiped his mouth on his shoulder.

Trust Shawn to be worried about the fact their terrorist-kidnapper didn't know about a song. Sure, a fairly famous one, but still. That was Shawn for you, she supposed.

The kidnapper stared at Shawn, a look of staggered incomprehension covering his features. He finally shook his head and took his gaze off Shawn. "I have more important things to think about."

"I don't know, I don't know!" Juliet moaned, putting her head in her uninjured hand and shutting her eyes against the frustrated tears.

"Well then figure it out!" the kidnapper snarled. "It's five o'clock. If you don't figure it out before sunrise, I can assure you that bad things are going to happen."

"We've been over this!" Juliet exploded, fatigue, anxiety, and frustration causing her to lash out. "I can't remember, you can't expect me to remember a phone call that I had no idea would be so damned important!"

"Perhaps I should give you a bit more of an incentive," the man threatened, leveling his gun at Shawn. "Which place this time? Should I give his leg wound a twin?"

"No, please," Juliet begged, reaching her hand out to grasp at the big man's arm. "Please, I'll try, I'll try. I swear. Just, please, don't hurt him anymore."

Her captor brought down the gun to his leg. "Then give me answers," he replied, a savage tone in his voice.

Juliet exhaled and massaged her temples. Suddenly, all she wanted was to go to Shawn and bury her face in his shoulder until this nightmare went away. Shawn was always willing to hold her, to croon comforting things in her ear, to be the rock in her often stormy world. He was always there for her. Always. And it scared her to think that, after today, he might not be. She needed to be by him, to have these few precious moments with her psychic.

Hey. Wait a minute.

Psychic.

"I need Shawn," she blurted out of the blue, startling both herself and the two men.

"What?" the kidnapper and Shawn asked at the same time.

"He's a psychic. He can help me. The spirits will tell him the numbers."

"No, no, no," Shawn babbled out, his face paling. "No, that's not-"

"Please, Shawn," Juliet cut him off.

"I don't believe in psychics," the kidnapper stated carefully.

"Shawn is the real deal, though," Juliet assured him. "He can help. I can't believe I didn't think of this before."

Their captor sent her a skeptical stare, his chin lowered as his dark eyes searched her own for any trace of deceit or malice. If he was hoping for any, perhaps looking for a chance to refuse her or hurt Shawn, he found none. Her pleading orbs held nothing but longing and worry. Seeing that he wavered in his resolve, she pressed further.

"Please. Just a few minutes. We'll get results."

The man sighed and gestured towards Shawn. "Very well. But if there is anything, anything, that happens that I disapprove of, Shawny gets shot, you get shot, and you both are going to be in a world of trouble. Do you understand?"

Juliet nodded and almost tipped over her chair in her hurry to get to Shawn.

"Five minutes," the man growled. "No more."

Juliet didn't deign to respond, instead concentrating on getting to her boyfriend. She staggered across the concrete to him, falling by his side and cupping his cheek with her unhurt hand. Shawn shook his head frantically, pulling away from her touch, though she could see it hurt him.

"No, no, Jules, no," he stammered, an almost teary quality in his voice. His eyes swam with tears as Juliet pressed her hand to the wound in his torso, wincing with pain.

"Shh, shh, it's gonna be okay," she assured him. "I just need your help, okay? Just help me with this and it'll all be over, honey, okay?" She pressed a kiss to his bloodstained lips, tasting copper on her own. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Jules, please," he pled in a strained whisper, "don't make me do this."

Using just the tip of the index finger on her injured hand, she tipped his trembling (trembling? Oh, dear, what was wrong? Why was Shawn crying?) chin upwards. Tears sprang to her own eyes, but she gave a sad smile. "It's gonna be okay." Past all caring, she ripped apart the duct tape holding his hands together (it was already stretched thin, so it was nothing to yank apart). At a loud "Ahem!" from their captor's chair, she turned and glared at him. "Just give him this. It's not like he can do anything!"

The man gave a heavy sigh and cocked his gun, leveling it at the two. "It is only because I cannot afford to argue about such a trivial matter at the moment that I allow it. If you make any sudden moves or do anything suspicious, I will not hesitate to shoot. Understood?"

Juliet gave a nod of thanks, then faced Shawn again. His shaking hands moved to cup her wrist, and she gave a slight hiss of pain as the tender flesh was touched.

"Oh, baby," he murmured, grimacing and rubbing his thumb gently over it. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I'm the one that got us into this," she disagreed. "I just need your help, Shawn."

"But-"

"I can't do this alone!" she appealed to him, a desperate tone creeping into her voice.

He exhaled shallowly, wincing at the pain it caused him. "Alright," he murmured, "alright." He brought his hands up in their signature "Psychic-Sleuthing-Mode" and placed the tips of his middle fingers on her temples. He drew in a breath and said, "Okay. I need you to go over everything you did during that phone call, okay?"

"How am I supposed to know everything I di-"

"The spirits are a bit rusty for me, Jules, but they'll be fine for you," Shawn interrupted. "The, the, the aura is a bit old. I need you to go over your actions again for it to be strengthened. Just, trust me on this," he assured her.

"Okay." She inhaled, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled. "Alright. I was at the kitchen table when I got the call. Going over that Blackburn case. And, uh, he called, and I picked up, and he asked if I had ever bought gun stock. I said no, and he said he'd save me 2 million dollars in 6 days."

"What'd he say next?" Shawn prompted, eyes closed in concentration.

"I think he said 5 million in 4 days."

"Good, good. What next?"

"I-I don't-"

"Come on, Jules. You can do this. What were you doing? Were you eating cereal? What was going on in your brain while he was talking?" He gave her an encouraging smile, even through the blood and pain his body was going through.

How different he was than the man who had kidnapped them. Where he seemed to think force and violence was the way to get what he wanted, Shawn was willing to be gentle and coax her along. And his way made her so much more willing to stick it out, to probe her brain and really delve into the recesses of her memory. She was frightened, and frustrated, and would have given up but for the strength that Shawn supplied her with.

He coaxed her through every second of her conversation, even when she would have given up, probing her mind. He really must have had the spirits on his side, to be able to glean that much information from her. Finally, after the five minutes were long over and done with, they had a long string of numbers that was the best they could come up with.

The man read them aloud. "26547833125755479426775463285945563." He tented his fingers below his chin, his brow furrowed. "Are you sure of these?"

Juliet shrugged. "As sure as I can be."

The Hulk pursed his lips, but seemed to accept it. "You know what happens if this goes wrong?"

Juliet gave a wordless nod and pressed her hand a little firmer into Shawn's torso.

"All right then." And he clicked his mouse to enter the numbers.

**What do you think will happen? Please review for me and tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**So, not too much time between updates this time. A lot less than regular, anyways. :P There shouldn't be too many more chapters to this. One or two, perhaps. Yay. Thank you for reviewing last, chapter, those of you who did. It means a lot. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the wondrous Psych. If I did, guess what I would be doing right now? Making more seasons of Psych. **

The couple watched their captor closely, nervousness clawing at Juliet's gut. She pressed her hand further onto Shawn's torso, but he was so intent on watching the man he didn't seem to feel it. He gnawed his bottom lip, brow furrowed in concentration. Their lives were at stake here. If the code didn't work, there was a good chance Juliet wasn't getting out of here.

He already knew he wouldn't, either way.

The man's eyebrows popped up and a smile flickered onto his face, so quick if Juliet hadn't been paying close attention she wouldn't have seen it.

"Well, Mr. Spencer, it seems you didn't lie about your talents," the man proclaimed. "Well done."

"It worked?" Shawn sounded shocked.

"Yes, actually, it did. Now, to bypass a few firewalls and other minor distractions…" The man motioned to Juliet's former seat. "If you please, Detective."

Juliet and Shawn's eyes locked, her stomach plummeting. "B-but we got you the code-" she stammered out, her hands starting to tremble. If she was going to die, she wanted it to be by Shawn's side, not in some wooden chair where she would have a front row seat to his execution. Besides, how could they plan an escape if she was all the way over there? Surely the man would figure out their Morse code trick, and uncover any plots they might make.

"Yes, you got me a code that seems to work," she was cut off, "but it could be a trick. Come sit here, where I can keep an eye on you, until I know that it truly is the right code."

"That…that is ab-absolutely ridiculous," Shawn blustered, albeit a bit breathlessly. "We got you the code, now-"

He was interrupted by the gun leveled at Juliet's forehead, and her boyfriend heaved an angry sigh, his breath hitching as his diaphragm contracted.

"I wouldn't push my luck," the man snapped. "That is, unless you want your girlfriend's brain splattered over your body, in which case, continue talking."

Shawn ground his teeth in anger, but held his tongue. Even he, with his conniving ways and witty manner, knew when the tension was too high to worm his way around his opponent. And at the moment, the tension in the room was so thick it was highly possible to cut it with a warm butter knife.

"You got this?" Juliet questioned, easing the pressure on his torso. Shawn winced, but covered hers with his own and nodded. He licked his bloodstained lips and snaked the other hand free of its place on his thigh to gently pull her in for one last kiss.

Because, if they did nothing, that was what it would be. He knew it. She knew it.

Her trembling lips met his, and it was with great difficulty that she kept her tears at bay. She sighed as she sank into his embrace, his comforting heat temporarily holding her fears at bay. They finally broke their kiss, but Shawn kept his hand cupping her cheek. Their foreheads touched, tips of their noses close enough to swap sweat. He whispered to her, "Be ready." Then, in a louder voice, said, "I love you, okay?"

Biting her lip to keep from sobbing, she inhaled deeply before managing a weak, "Okay." She stood up and made her way over to the rickety wooden chair she had come to hate in the last few hours. Even though she was exhausted, angry, grief stricken, and, to top it all, confused, thanks to Shawn, she refused to let her captor beat her down. Her back was ramrod straight as she stared him in his steely eye.

The man handed her his laptop, keeping his gun trained on her. "When I give the signal, type in what I tell you to. They're quite simple firewalls, if you're trained, as I am."

"Are you kidding? These look insane," she countered as she encountered a flashing screen.

"Please," he answered breezily, "I've been trained. This is nothing."

"Okay, well, you'd better tell me what to do," she told him, "Or it looks like we'll get blocked out."

As the man instructed her easily on what to type on the keyboard, out of the corner of her eye she saw silent movement. Her breath caught in her chest as she realized Shawn was slowly edging closer to the pair. No, no, no! she internally screamed at him. What are you doing?! On the outside, however, she kept up a calm façade, knowing that to expose him now would mean certain death.

Shawn slowly, ever so slowly, made his way along the bottom of the wall, exhaling through his teeth as even the slightest movement sent pain ripping through his body. His face was screwed in a perpetual grimace, but he continued on his way, even as Juliet's eyes watched his warningly. By some miracle, he found that as Juliet and the man worked on any firewalls they came up against, he found himself about a foot away from the door. He was about to slide ever closer when a firm voice accosted him.

"Be warned, Mr. Spencer, make one more move and it will be the last you ever do."

Shawn swore under his breath. Dammit, he was found out. Well, there was nothing left for it. He struggled to his feet and lunged for the door, his bad leg buckling under his weight. He fell to the door with a cry of pain, agony lighting him on fire as his wounds were jarred. He hadn't even made it to the stairs!

Footsteps stomped towards him, and despite his struggles he was lifted upwards by the collar of his shirt as easily as if he were a Pomeranian. He coughed as his windpipe was squeezed, and met the fiery eyes of his kidnapper.

"I've had just about enough of you, Mr. Spencer," the man growled. "I believe I have what I need. I don't need you any longer." His hand grabbed Shawn by the throat and squeezed, his mighty grip lifting Shawn off the ground until not even his toes touched. He kicked and struggled feebly, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as his hands grasped at the man's coat and shirt, anything to lend him a hand. It wasn't as if he had enough air already, and to add the fact his air supply was completely cut off was not good. He managed to choke out one last, "Suck it!" before the black tingeing the corners of his vision completely overcame him and he went limp.

What the hell was Shawn doing? Juliet looked around frantically for a weapon to use against the man as he choked her boyfriend, his focus off her for a few precious seconds. He had taken the gun with him, there was no sharp objects…blunt, however, was a different story. Making a split second decision, she tore the cord out of the computer and raced over to him. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, leaving her wrist with no pain as she brought it smashing down onto the big man's head. He hollered in pain and dropped Shawn into a limp heap on the floor. Pieces of broken plastic were stuck in his head and blood gushed out as he rounded on her, but she snatched up a chair and brought it soundly underneath his chin, sending his staggering. She searched for another weapon, but his recovery time was remarkable, and his hand met her mouth in a weighty punch. She fell backwards, tasting blood in her mouth from a split lip, and scrabbled along to ground to evade his meaty form.

He snatched her ankle and yanked her forward, her slim form not able to do much against his strength. He knelt over her, large paws grasping her throat. She threw her hardest punches against his arms, chest, face, anywhere with skin, but she was no match for him. He squeezed tightly, cutting off her air circulation. She struggled and writhed against him, but he had her pinned.

"I grow tired of your games, detective," he ground out, crushing her throat harder. "Enough!"

Her hands reached out, scrabbling along the cement for anything to use against the brute. There was nothing, _nothing_! Black crowded her vision, and it seemed all hope was lost. At least she'd be with Shawn, soon.

That is, until her fingers grasped something long and rubbery.

The computer cord.

In one fluid motion, she yanked the computer cord from its plug in the wall and flung it over his back, grasping it with her other. Slightly guessing as to where his neck was, her sight impeded by a black mass forming, she looped it around his skin and pulled as hard as she could. He let off her with a gag and grasped at the cord, attempting to pull it off, but rage lent strength to her muscles and she only pulled all the more. He reared up, hands pawing at his neck, and she used to action to knee him in the groin. He buckled, and she squeezed even harder, his face turning a bright purple. His tongue poked out of his mouth, his lungs gasping for breath, but they found none. His fists trembled, hanging onto the rope as blood trickled down his neck, but Juliet hung on. He wheezed and choked for a few seconds, but eventually began to go limp.

Juliet used it to her advantage, letting go of the cord and lunging for the gun that had slid to the floor in their scuffle. As he gasped, chest heaving, he unsteadily stood up and reared for her, hands clumsily grasping for any part of her he could grab in his daze.

She planted her feet on the floor, and as he was about to slam his fist into her head, she leveled the gun and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times.

The man staggered backwards, a shocked look on his face. "You-you shot me," he observed in a wondering tone as blood bubbled out of his lips. His gaze traveled down to the bullet in his collarbone, in the middle of his chest, and in his left pectoral.

She made no response.

His legs shook. "Well done, detective," he slurred, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Juliet took the opportunity to empty the rest of the gun into his flesh.

She stood in silent wonder for a moment, hardly able to comprehend the fact that the man was dead. He was dead. They weren't going to die today. The country was safe. She and Shawn would be able to go-Shawn!

She dropped the gun and ran to his side, falling to her knees. "Shawn, Shawn, Shawn," she repeated frantically, hands grasping his limp body and turning him over. "Stay with me, babe, stay with me!" She propped him against the wall and shook his shoulders, terror lending her wings. "Shawn!"

A light cough met her efforts, and his eyelids fluttered. His head lolled to side, and she lightly slapped the side of his cold, pale, face. "Shawn?"

He let out a low moan and opened his unfocused eyes. She had never been more happy to see them, glazed and confused though they may be. "Stay awake, Shawn, okay?" she ordered, pressing her hand over his torso wound as hard as she could. He let out a quiet cry and arched his back, trying to back away from the fire in his gut. "Shh, shh shh shh, it's okay, don't struggle," she calmed him, a lump blocking her throat. She gave a weak smile to reassure him. "It's okay."

He grimaced and fumbled in his pocket, hands shaking as they rummaged for something. Juliet was about to prompt him to stay still when his trembling hand placed a green electronic in her lap.

"Your phone?" she whispered. "How did you-"

"I still got…a few…tricks…up my sleeve," he managed breathlessly, chest heaving. He gave her one of his trademark smirks before his eyelids dropped closed and his head bowed over his chest.

"Shawn!" she yelled, smacking his face. He cracked an eye open and rolled his head to an upright position, much as it seemed to pain him. He breathed heavily, blood flowing out around Juliet's fingers in a seemingly never ending stream. Tears filled her eyes as she watched it. She couldn't do this. She couldn't _do_ this!

Shawn's brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. He brought a shaking thumb to her face, set it awkwardly on her bottom lip, and brushed it to the side, smearing blood and dirt over her skin. Apparently Juliet's split lip did not sit well with Shawn. Juliet let loose a weak chuckle, but tears slid down her face. Shawn grasped the nape of her neck and brought her face to meet him, leaning forward as much as he possibly could. Their lips met, lips meeting lips in an explosion of passion, and Juliet let all her grief and exhaustion melt away as she tasted blood, tears, dirt, and _Shawn_. She dwelled on his perfection for those few precious moments. She loved him so much.

Shawn let out a breath as his head lolled to the side, breaking the kiss. His body crumpled over, leaving Juliet panicking. "Shawn, Shawn, Shawn, no no no no no no," she pleaded, shaking him frantically. "Stay with me, stay with me!

"_Shawn_!"

**For the record, no, Shawn is not a psychic in this story. He just helps Juliet remember little details, using logic to fudge around and help her remember more. **

**Please review for me!**


	8. Chapter 8

**One more chapter, folkses. Cray cray.**

**Edit: Thanks to Comma to the Top for reminding me about Juliet's wrist. Silly me. My father is a doctor. Bad things happen when you write on only a few hours' sleep, children. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the lovely Psych. **

Juliet's blood roared in her ears as she struggled with Shawn's limp form, hands scrabbling to turn him over once more. Her shaking fingers pressed themselves underneath his jaw, searching for a pulse, however faint it might be. She was not rewarded with movement, however, and a sob caught in her throat. "Please," she stammered, "please, Shawn, Shawn, wake up, Shawn!" She placed her fists on his chest, her good hand first with her injured on top of it, not feeling the pain in the terror of the moment, and began to compress his chest as hard as she could. One, two, three, four, five. She hunched over and breathed into his mouth with her own, pinching his nose shut and forcing air into his lungs.

No response.

She tried it again, beating the life back into her boyfriend. Again, there was nothing. Even after a third time, there was no change. "No, no, no," she chanted under her breath, refusing to give up. "Don't you do this to me, Shawn Spencer! Don't you do this to me!"

As she slammed her hands down on his sternum, his green-cased iPhone clattered to the concrete. An idea flashed across her mind, and she picked up the electronic with shaking hands. The phone had one bar of service, and she grasped the opportunity. After searching through his contacts for a few moments, she glimpsed "Lassiefrass the King of Gloom and Doom and Salt and Pepper Hair". She pressed 'call' and sandwiched the phone between her ear and her shoulder, resuming her compressions. It rang once, but he didn't pick up. "Come on, Carlton," she groaned. "Pick up!"

And then, a strange sound hit her ear. A standard telephone ring sounded in the staircase, one that sounded identical to Carlton's. Her head snapped around to look at the door. Footsteps sounded, and a few seconds later the door slammed open to reveal Carlton Lassiter's stern, blessed face as his pistol scanned the room, coming to a stop in Juliet's direction. He dropped it in surprise.

"O'Hara!" he exclaimed, "Are you-" His eyes settled upon Shawn's still, bloody form, and he ran towards her, dropping to his knees at her side and gently shoving her away. He placed his strong hands just below Shawn's sternum and pressed down repeatedly, his strength doing much more than Juliet's own weakened, broken hands could do. He pinched Shawn's nose and, only grimacing slightly, breathed into Shawn's mouth. He had the same result as Juliet. He tried once more, and Juliet could hear a snap or two as the force of his hands began to break Shawn's ribs.

"Come on, Spencer," he growled, "come on-!" He forced breath into Shawn once more, this time with more promising results.

Shawn sucked in a quiet breath and Carlton gave a minute sigh of relief (which he would later say was one of disappointment). "Let's get those EMT's up here!" he shouted towards the door. "Let's go!"

Within seconds, three of the medical workers coming through the door toting a stretcher, an IV, and other assorted medical supplies. Carlton gently took Juliet's arms and pulled her over to the side, allowing the trio to do their work. She sagged into his grip, tears making their way down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into his chest, finding temporary comfort in him. He stiffened, unaccustomed to the affection, but his hand made its way to her lower back and rubbed comforting circles over her shirt. "Shh," he murmured under his breath. "It's okay.

"It's over now."

OOoOo

A swarm of officers had covered the warehouse and the surrounding grounds, making sure the entire area was secure before continuing in investigating the crime scene. The man had been encased in the body bag and brought downstairs. Woody would be having a party with him. Shawn had been strapped onto the stretcher and brought down to the ambulance, the EMT's hustling as fast as they could. Even though Carlton had saved his life for the time being, there was a good chance Shawn wouldn't make it, and as the ambulance made its way down the street, Juliet wondered if that was the last time she'd see him.

Carlton guided her down the stairs and outside, keeping a steadying arm around her shoulders. As she stepped through the door leading to the outside world, she was surprised to find the sun coming up. She felt like it had been months since she'd first gotten Shawn's call, but here it was, only a few hours later. It was strange.

The pair passed by the forensics workers, who were loading the kidnapper, safely encased in his body bag, into the van. He was laid out on a rolling slab, and the sight of him suddenly made Juliet's blood boil. He'd shot Shawn, injured her wrist, caused terror to them both and nearly did some kind of damage to the government. Well. Juliet had made a promise to him, and she intended to keep that promise.

Without hesitating a beat, she snatched Carlton's pistol from his holster and unzipped the body bag, exposing his torso and legs. The workers jumped back in alarm, Carlton exclaiming her name, as she leveled the gun at the corpse. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. The man's nether regions exploded in a shower of flesh and blood, and the male workers (Carlton included) winced as their own tingled in empathy, (not too much, of course. The man was a cold blooded killer) each man inadvertently imagining himself upon the slab. The pistol clicked empty and Juliet lowered it with a disgusted air.

"I told you," she snarled. "I told you if you hurt him I'd do it."

The corpse made no reply, and Carlton placed a hand tentatively on her arm. Even though the clip was empty, he wasn't sure if she'd turn and attack his weaker parts. "O'Hara?" he murmured. "Put the gun down, O'Hara."

She complied and released the gun to his gentle grasp. He quickly placed it safely back in his holster where it belonged, breathing a silent sigh of relief.

Juliet stared at her grisly handiwork, her eyes wide and unfocused. Carlton watched her, eyes narrowed in concern. He was about to question if she was okay when her knees buckled and she sagged into him.

"Hey, hey, hey," he whispered, grabbing her arms and supporting her weight. "It's okay, it's okay."

Her back heaved with a sob, and he gently patted it. He moved his hand to grasp her hand, and she jerked it away with a gasp of pain.

"Hey, he hurt you too?" Lightening his grip, he gently pushed her away from his body and brought her wrist up to his eyes. The skin was covered in a gigantic hand shaped bruise, mottled purple and green. At the moment, it was impossible to tell whether it was broken or not. Nothing shifted, though, so that was promising.

"I-it snapped," Juliet supplied in a wobbly voice, barely able to hold herself together. "I heard snapping."

"We'll get you to the hospital, okay? Come on, let's just get you there," Carlton suggested in a quiet voice, leading her by the shoulders to his car. She nodded and allowed herself to be sat down, sagging limply into the upholstery. Carlton started up the car, strapping himself in, and they zoomed onto the roadway, leaving behind the horrors of the morning.

It wasn't until they were a good five minutes onto the road when Juliet broke down.

One minute, all was quiet, and the next, Carlton looked over to see his partner pressing her hand to her mouth, her back shaking with silent sobs. Carlton reached a hand over and rubbed her shoulder, only prompting her to cry all the harder. She leaned over, her hands coming up to cover her face as the sound of her wracking sobs filled the car.

"He..he told m-me…to leave…" she managed to get out around her sobs.

"What?" Carlton responded.

"He told…me to get out…out of the…the city…and he…the man…Shawn!" she dissolved into tears again, her normally strong detective-wall crumbling underneath the trauma that befallen her. She wept whole heartedly, her fear and anger and hurt coming out in a tsunami. Carlton rode out the storm quietly, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder gently and letting her know he was there for her. Much as he was a thorny, stern cop, he really cared about his partner and (much as he would never in a million years admit it) her goofy boyfriend. It hurt him to see them hurt so deeply, and Carlton vowed that he would do whatever he needed to make this wrong right.

"Stop the car," she whispered, her tears finally subsiding into the occasional hiccough, or stray tear leaking out her eye.

"What?"

"Stop the-huergh-" she heaved, and Carlton immediately pulled over, allowing her to open the door and dispel her dinner onto the grass.

Much as he sympathized with her, there was no way Carlton was letting her get puke all over his car.

Even after she'd finished throwing up liquid, she dry heaved a few times, her body still getting through the shock.

She was a good cop, a great detective, but she was still a human. And sometimes, what her body needed to get rid of the fear she had been subject to for so long, was to throw it up.

After a few minutes, she shakily pulled herself back into the car and settled into her seat, this time pulling on her seatbelt.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.

OOoOo

An hour later, Juliet sat in the waiting room of the hospital. Her wrist was safely bandaged up (only sprained, not broken, thankfully) and she was wearing a pair of extra scrubs so she wouldn't have to wear her old, blood-stained suit. She curled up on one of the uncomfortable plastic seat, leaning her head on the back of it and closing her eyes.

Even with her vision black, her mind was filled with images of the earlier happenings, and she opened them to keep them at bay, for the moment.

Carlton approached and handed her a steaming cup of coffee, taking a sip of his own and pulling a wry face. "This is almost as bad as the stuff at the precinct," he quipped.

Juliet mustered a small smile, then let it fall. She took a sip, but the taste didn't register on her tongue. She heaved a sigh and rolled her neck. "Carlton?"

"Yeah?" he answered, taking a seat next to her.

"Do you think Shawn's going to be okay?"

The question caught him off-guard, and he ducked his head, watching his cup thoughtfully as he swirled the coffee contained within. He tilted his head, trying to form an answer. The best he could muster was, "I…I don't know."

Juliet gummed her lips and nodded slowly, her eyes wandering to the clock that sat on the wall, merrily ticking away. It had no idea of the power it held in its hands. The more time that passed, the more Shawn's chances of surviving lessened.

oOoOo

Four hours after they arrived at the hospital, a weary-looking doctor emerged from the surgery doors. Flipping through the pages of his clipboard, he removed his mask and called, "Family of Shawn Spencer?"

Juliet was up like a rocket, Carlton following her closely. "Is he okay? Is he-" Juliet trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

The doctor held up his hand to calm her down. "He's alive," he answered, but he cut off any potential celebration by continuing, "barely. He lost massive amounts of blood. Massive. I've never seen a man lose so much blood and still be alive. The bullet in his leg nicked an artery, accounting for the way it wouldn't stop bleeding, even after all that time. And the bullet in his side was lodged near his kidney. We managed to get it out with as little damage as possible. It's remarkable. He's a very lucky man, I don't need to tell you that."

Juliet nodded wordlessly.

"However, as I said, he lost massive amounts of blood. He was experiencing incredible amounts of internal bleeding. He's not out of the woods yet. There's the possibility of infection, to add to that. He spent a lot of time in a dirty place. I'm sure you're aware of that. For the moment, we've put him in a medically-instated coma." The doctor tapped his clipboard. "Does he have any other family?"

"His father's on his way back from a fishing trip," Carlton supplied. "It was a few hours away. He should be here shortly. His mother is also flying in."

"Good," the doctor answered approvingly.

"Can…can we see him?" Juliet ventured.

"One at a time, if you really wish to," the doctor answered. "However, my advice? Go home. Shower up. Get rested. It'll be a few days, if he wakes up. If you really wish to, though, he's in room 415."

"Thank you," Juliet replied, already heading off in that direction.

"Ma'am?" the doctor called after her before she could get very far.

She turned to face him, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated before answering. "Prepare yourself. Even…even for the worst."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she gave a strong nod and continued on her way. Even if Shawn succumbed to the blood-loss and/or infection, there was no way she'd leave him alone. Not now…

Not ever.

**I think that was the chapter with the reviews I loved the most. I loved seeing your reaction to that lovely cliffhanger. X3 thank you all. **

**Reviews are love for poor Shawn! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Le gasp! This is it! The last chapter! Sigh. I'm gald it's here, but I'll miss this. And you guys. You guys are so awesome. Anyway. Enjoy! **

He woke to the sound of beeping, the smell of medication and sterilization, the sight of blinding light. He winced and shut his cracked eyelids, a whining grunt escaping his lips. Oh, a thousand curses upon the dastardly light. Why him? Attempting to brave the cruel whiteness once more, he slowly slipped an eye open. Agh. Terrible. Why was he sore? Why was he here (because clearly this was a hospital. Even if someone wasn't trained as he was, they would've been able to figure that out)? Had he done drugs? No. Impossible. He didn't do drugs. Drugs impeded his abilities. What had happened?

With a Herculean effort, he opened his eyes to observe his surroundings. It stung, but he managed to keep them open against the assault. His room was small, and single. A small table sat by his head, and two of those terrible looking plastic covered wooden chairs a few feet away. To his right, a stack of machines and monitors whirred and beeped merrily. He lifted his left hand to scratch his head and felt a painful twinge. "Ow," he exclaimed in surprise, glancing at it to see an IV stuck in his skin. His gaze traveled the rest of his body to search out any other foreign substances on his person. His torso was uncovered, a large white bandage wrapped around his stomach. A spot of red showed through on his left side.

A myriad of images flashed back, all at once. Getting kidnapped. Calling Juliet. Getting shot. He began to sit up, only to gasp and fall backwards as a flare of pain shot across his stomach. Dizziness swept through his brain, and he squeezed his eyes shut to combat the unsteadiness. After he overcame the discomfort, he opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows. Ow. Okay. That hurt. He grimaced and was about to stand when he heard a step.

Swiveling his head to look at the door, his gaze fell upon Juliet, standing in the doorway with a coffee in her hands and a relieved, surprised look upon her face. "Shawn?" she whispered, her chin trembling just hard enough to catch his eye.

"Jules," he murmured.

Her coffee was sent splashing to the floor as she rushed towards him, her flats clacking along the slick tiles. She stopped at the bed, throwing herself into Shawn's outstretched arms. She embraced him as hard as she could, tears of happiness and relief pricking the back of her eyelids. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent and relishing in the fact that he wasn't dead and bless the Lord he could see her beautiful face and feel her wonderful hair and listen to the sound of her voice. God, she was so beautiful. "Jules, Jules, Jules," he breathed in a chant, over and over again.

And that was all he really needed to say.

Eventually they broke apart, but Shawn's hand stayed cupped around her cheek. She ran a hand through his hair, her lips curved in a soft smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Kinda woozy. Kinda weird. Either I've been doing marijuana in my sleep, which, according to Woody is entirely possible, or they've been giving me some wicked drugs." He rubbed a hand over his tired face. "How long have I been out?"

"Uh, about 5 days. They had you in a medically induced coma."

"What happened? How'd we get out?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Juliet questioned.

"Uh…the guy. Choking me. And…the phone? Did I give you a phone?"

Juliet nodded and smoothed the hair over his ear. "Carlton found us just as you…" She swallowed uncomfortably. "He traced the cell phone signal from when I answered his call and figured it out. The ambulance got you to the hospital just in time."

"You're not getting rid of me just yet," he answered cheekily. "Well, how strange. Lassie figured something out for a change." Juliet didn't answer, instead looking down and fiddling with his fingers. "Jules? You okay?"

"Why did you do it, Shawn?" she whispered.

"Do what?" he answered, eyes darting away. He knew what she was talking about, but didn't want to acknowledge it. Shawn, in all of his happy-go-lucky ways, didn't want to recognize the danger they had been subject to. Sure, he'd celebrate, "Yay I'm not dead let's go get some Cuatros Quesos Dos Fritos and watch the Princess Bride!" but he would stuff the fear and terror he had felt into the "Untouchable" box, and never talk about it or bring it up. He was goofy and silly and ridiculous, and ordeals like the one they had gone through rattled him and made him uncomfortable. So he'd do his best to change the subject and think about something else.

"You know what I mean," Juliet persisted. And when he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. "Don't change the subject. Why did you tell me to leave the city, knowing that it'd get you shot, and why did you…" She ducked her head and swallowed. "Why did you try and escape when you knew you couldn't?" She bit her lip as tears rose. "Shawn you nearly-"

"Hey, hey hey," he whispered, tipping her chin and brushing his thumb over her cheek. "What did I tell you? Huh?" When she didn't answer, he supplied it for her. "I will always protect you. And even if that means defending you from crazy ass Hulk guys, I will do that. Okay?"

Her tears changed to a smile, and suddenly all he wanted to do was kiss those lips right off her face. Their lips met, and what started as a chaste, loving touch grew more heated. And even though he was in a hospital bed and in a hospital gown, dammit, he reveled in her touch and she in his.

That is, until they were met by a disparaging groan in the doorway.

They broke apart, almost guiltily, and Shawn was reminded of a similar circumstance happening not too long ago, except that was on top of a cliff. With a crowd of people. And this was in a hospital bedroom with a disgruntled looking Lassiter staring at them disapprovingly.

"Now, O'Hara," he began, "I sure hope you two aren't having any of that hospital sex business. Because, while you might have been lying on that phone call, there is the slight possibility that Spencer might have been depraved enough to suggest it and you somehow gave in, though there is no possible reason on earth for you to have. And, might I add, it would be disgusting and extremely unprofessional. So, for the sake of all of our stomachs, put that away. …Please," he finished lamely.

"Lassie!" Shawn cheered, his slight disappointment at having his session with Jules washed away by seeing his pseudo-enemy. "How's it going? Enter our humble abode!"

Carlton lifted his eyes to the heavens in a long suffering manner as he entered the tiny room, making sure to avoid the substantial coffee splatter on the floor. "I'm here to tell you-well, technically I came to tell O'Hara, but now that you're awake you as well-that your father is on his way."

Shawn gave Juliet an imploring look, going so far as to add in his beseeching puppy eyes. "C'mon, Jules, don't subject me to my dad," he wheedled. "I just woke up. Give me a few millennia to adjust myself?"

Juliet shook her head, an exasperated smile on her face as she planted a kiss on his forehead and refused his request.

Shawn turned his attention to Lassiter. "Please, Lassie?"

The gruff policeman snorted. "You're on your own. I have to go visit Marlowe. I'll see you at the station, O'Hara." He exited the room, only to poke his head around the corner of the doorway. "Oh, and Spencer, I have a case the chief-not me, you understand-the chief wants you to look at." His eyes darted at the floor uncomfortably before he vanished.

Shawn grinned. "He missed me."

oOoOo

Around two in the afternoon the next day, Shawn and Juliet were peacefully watching an episode of American Duos. Juliet was lounged next to him in his bed, turned on her hip with her head leaning on his shoulder so they weren't too squished. Shawn absentmindedly twirled a lock of her blonde waves around his finger, his other hand holding a smoothie and his attention locked on the TV. A cough interrupted their program, and they looked up to see Chief Vick and a strange man standing in the doorway.

Juliet shot up off the bed, hastily adjusting her clothing as Shawn muted the TV and set down his smoothie.

"Chief!" he greeted her. "Person I don't know but have a feeling I'm about to! How are you doing this fine morning? Afternoon? Aftermorn? Which technically is the same thing as afternoon because-"

"Hello, Mr. Spencer," Karen cut his ramblings short. "I assume you're at a place where you can have a conversation?"

"Wellll…" he drawled, darting a glance at Juliet, who raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod of her head. He sighed and directed his attention to the chief once more. "Yeah, I guess so. What's up?"

"I have with me Frank Zira, the director of the FBI."

Shawn's eyebrows shot upwards as the stocky, short man stepped forward. "Hello, Mr. Spencer. We are so sorry about what happened, and rest assured the FBI will cover any of your bills acquired during your stay here."

"Is that so?" Shawn murmured deviously, mind already running through the things he could 'accomplish'.

"I suppose you'd like some closure on the events that transpired last week," Frank stated, and Juliet nodded as she came to stand by Shawn, placing a hand on his shoulder. Shawn cast a glance at her and took her hand in his own before turning once again to the director.

"The man who kidnapped you is named Gerald Frent, though he goes by a myriad of aliases, including Chris Butler, Michael Archane, and many more. He's a known terrorist and anti-government activist, and has been responsible for killing hundreds of people in the United States and parts of Europe. He's part of a group called the Defenders, a sick, deluded bunch of people who think violence, bloodshed, and anarchy is the way to solve the world's problems, and they will do anything to do that.

"The code you were trying to figure out is the code to a file that would, eventually, once past the firewalls and blockages, give the viewer the code to a bigger, larger file that holds the code for an arsenal of nuclear weapons. Given the access you provided, Gerald would have been able to destroy the greater part of North America, at least." Frank stared at them with a steely eye. "If he had succeeded in his mission, I cannot tell you how dire the consequences would have been.

The man on the phone was your brother, detective."

"What?!" Juliet exclaimed. "I thought Ewan-"

"Yes, was a criminal, but he has a special set of skills the government may or may not be in need of, so he was cut a deal," Frank answered vaguely. "He was trying to infiltrate the Defenders, who in turn were trying to infiltrate the group that currently carries the nuclear weapons."

"You mean the government doesn't have them?" Shawn interrupted.

Frank's eye twitched. "We're close. Anyway, Ewan was the point of contact for the mole in the group carrying the weapons. Unfortunately, his cover was blown and he had to get away. However, before he did so, he was able to acquire the code. The phone call he made to you was the last phone call he made before he was captured by the Defenders."

"He's captured?!" Juliet's eyes were widened. "Did you find him? Is he hurt? Why did he call me?"

"He did manage to escape, and trust me, he's fine. We've lost contact for the moment, so he can lie low, but he can take care of himself, trust me. We're not really sure why he called you. Perhaps you were the only person he felt he could trust."

Juliet's brow furrowed. "I…I arrested him! You're the government! Shouldn't he have called you?"

"Someone in the government compromised his assignment, detective. And family or not you did what you thought was right, and he respected that. And you're still his sister." His face softened. "Family is important, detective. Especially in our line of work. Keep them close."

He exhaled briskly. "I hope that takes care of some of your questions. I'm afraid I can't answer too many. National security and all that. Thank you, Mr. Spencer, for your bravery, and you as well, detective." He saluted and walked out of the room, Chief Vick shooting them a small smile and following.

Shawn watched the empty space before saying a dazed voice, "Well then."

oOoOo

As the end credits rolled of Back to the Future, Juliet sat up and stretched, a yawn making its way out of her mouth. "Wahimeizzit?" she garbled, taking out her cell phone and glancing at the clock. "7," she sighed. "I should get going."

Shawn rubbed a hand over his eyes, letting loose a loud yawn as well. The drugs he had been administered a few minutes before were starting to take effect. "I should not be this tired."

"You're on some pretty heavy stuff," she chuckled, running her fingers through his hair. "You'll feel better soon."

His lower lip protruded pathetically as his round, mournful eyes stared up at her. "I want you to stay."

She laughed. "Me too, but there are case files to do and reports to fill out."

He sighed heavily and winced as his side twinged. "Promise you'll come back soon?"

"Promise." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and made her way to the door, only to be stopped by him calling her name. She turned around and questioned, "Yes?"

"There really is no such thing as the Final Countdown, is there?" His eyes had an uncharacteristically serious look in them.

"What do you mean?" she answered slowly, brow furrowing in confusion.

"I mean, life is full of countdowns. You've got the obvious one, from birth to death, but then there are all the other smaller ones. Like when you're going to go to work, when you're going to eat, when you're going to watch a movie, see your friend again. There really is no Final Countdown, right? Because…there's always more things to do. And when you think about it, the big one's been going your whole life. And when you're about to die you're just reminded of it."

"I…I guess that's true," Juliet murmured, her head spinning as she tried to get past Shawn's speech.

"I guess…I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm glad…I'm glad my countdown's not up yet." He ducked his head and slumped backwards, his eyes starting to get glassy as the drugs worked their way into his system.

Juliet's face softened, and a small smile played about her lips. "So am I," she answered gently.

"Jules?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm starting a new countdown."

"Until when?"

"You…come back." His eyelids drooped close and his head lolled to the side, sleep crashing upon like a wave.

Juliet breathed a chuckle and quietly left the room. "Me too, Shawn. Me too."

**~finis**

**oOoOo**

**Thank you for reading! You all are amazing! Please leave a review for me, as a last act of awesomeness. Come on. You know you want to. **

**Thank you for reading! It's been fun, and I'll probably do something along the lines of this soon. I might possibly be doing a Supernatural/Psych crossover, so if you like that, stay tuned. **

**Well, that's all, folks! Stay awesome. **

**-ZeDancingHobbit**


End file.
